


A Little Necromance

by IgnobleBard



Category: Lord of the Ringss
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 08:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3350204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IgnobleBard/pseuds/IgnobleBard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legolas gets captured and taken to Dol Guldur. Elrohir goes to save him and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Necromance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marchwriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marchwriter/gifts).



> Story elements = Dol Guldur, the forest of Mirkwood, darkness, sorcery, strong character development, realistic dialogue. Appearance by the Nazgul would be a plus.

Elladan and Elrohir had been tracking the orcs for days when they finally sighted them. Their hearts clenched with dread to see their destination, the dark tower rising in the distance. Dol Guldur, the very name an anathema upon the heart. At this distance they knew they would never reach the orcs in time. They looked at each other in dismay.

“We must try,” Elrohir insisted.

“There is no way we can take on that tower alone,” Elladan said. “I know how much Legolas means to you, but he is lost if they take him in there.”

“If we hurry. . .” Elrohir began.

“We have no time,” Elladan said. “I am sorry, but we must turn back.”

“You would leave Legolas to a horrific fate without even trying?” Elrohir asked, anger in his voice. “How many times has he helped us in our hunts when the trail led us to Mirkwood? How many times has his bow saved us on the trail home when we were too weary from our travels to notice an ambush ahead? No, I will not give up.”

He set off at a rapid pace down the ridge before Elladan could reply so he had no choice but to follow.

The two were a good thirty seconds too late to prevent the orcs from gaining the tower, dragging a battered Legolas along with them. The guards laughed and opened the gates. “A pretty prize,” one called. The master will have fine sport tonight.”

Elrohir would have plunged into the thick of the orc pack upon hearing this if Elladan didn’t grab his arm, staying him.

“No, Elrohir. We will find a way, but sacrificing ourselves will gain neither us nor Legolas anything at this point. Come, I have an idea.”

The two would have been hard pressed to find the door to the cottage before them, covered as it was in all manner of moss and ivy, but as they approached the wizard came forth from an opening in the moss covered wall. A quick glance revealed a table and chair inside before the door swung closed. Radagast pulled up short at the sight of them.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” he said. “What brings the sons of Elrond to my door?”

Elladan was surprised the wizard knew them. They had seen him only once, and that when they were very small. It was on their first trip to Mirkwood with their father and they had been fascinated by the animals that accompanied the old man.

“My brother and I were tracking an orc pack that attacked a settlement east of the Bruinen. The Prince of Mirkwood was captured in the ensuing battle and we must get into the tower of Dol Guldur to save him,” Elrohir said. He had no time for niceties and would not have used them if he had. He was the blunt type.

“The tower?” Radagast was appalled. “If that is where he is, that is where he must stay. There is no hope for anyone who enters that foul place. The Necromancer is powerful and pitiless.”

Elrohir fought the urge to punch the old man for his pessimistic words. He needed to believe Legolas could be saved, that even now he was all right and not being defiled by the evil creatures who had taken him. He trembled with rage but Elladan spoke up quickly.

“All we ask is that you give us a charm, a spell, anything that might allow us to gain entry to the tower. We will do the rest. And in return we will share any information we find about the Necromancer. I know you have worked long to undo the damage to Mirkwood’s fair birds and beasts. Perhaps we can find something in the tower to aid your mission.”

Radagast thought this over for a long moment, while Elrohir stood helplessly by, itching for action. At last the wizard nodded thoughtfully. “I might have something. Let me check my books.”

Elladan and Elrohir waited behind a boulder at the foot of the massive tower as the sun was setting. Elrohir had never seen his brother look more disgusting and knew he looked the same. Radagast had ensorcelled them to look like orcs, a spell that would last no more than 24 hours. That was all the time they had to get into the tower, find Legolas, and get out.

Already they had been waiting for three hours, every minute like a knife in Elrohir’s heart. Finally a group of orcs came along the path and they were able to fall in behind without being noticed. The orcs led them up a steep, winding path to the base of the tower and grunted a password. The seemingly solid rock slid open and they entered. The grinding sound of the stone door closing sent a shiver though Elrohir. 

They followed the orcs until the hallway branched off then slipped away and set upon a search for the dungeons where they were sure Legolas would be, but the tower was massive and mazelike, halls branching off everywhere. Reluctantly they decided to split up to cover more ground, agreeing on a meeting place near the entrance for a quick escape.

Elrohir padded lightly down a darkened corridor which led to a stair descending into semi-darkness. Black sconces held sooty torches that created a haze that stung his eyes, but Elrohir kept going. As he searched the hall on the next floor he heard a familiar groan. Slipping noiselessly along, he came to heavy, oaken door, closed tight.

As he stood debating his next move, the door swung open on its own. A tall man dressed in black silk robes sat upon a carved wooden chair of heavily lacquered red and gold with a red velvet cushion. Before him lay a bed and upon that bed was a naked Legolas, writhing and moaning in pleasure, his arousal plain to see.

Elrohir, still in the guise of an orc, stood dumbstruck on the threshold. The man sat with steepled fingers, watching Legolas for a moment before turning to Elrohir.

“Come in,” the man said with an enigmatic smile. “He’s ready for you.”

The man had jet black hair and an angular face that made his features seem to change with every turn of his head in the dim candlelight of the room. His fingers were long and slender with short, pointed nails, buffed to a shine. His face was rough and scarred but his eyes, the electric blue of a lightning bolt against a stormy sky, spoke of an arcane wisdom.

Even though he was taken aback, Elrohir did not forget himself. He spoke in a rough orcs voice, using the Black Speech he had learned from his father many years ago. “What do you mean, my lord?”

“You would like to sport with him, would you not?” the man said. “He is very beautiful.”

Elrohir felt something touch his mind then, a feeling. . . a suggestion. . . a command. Using his mental reserves he pushed back, but he could not seem to dislodge it, in fact, the command began to morph and change, becoming a compulsion. His blood quickened into lust and suddenly all he wanted was to make love to Legolas, right here and now.

He stepped forward, trying briefly to fight for control and failing before entering the room approaching the bed. With only a flash of hesitation, he climbed onto Legolas, covering that glorious, naked body with his own. He looked into the eyes of his love and could see he was fighting the spell, even as he himself was, and with as little effect. Legolas could not stem his lust but when he saw the object of his desire was an orc, a tear fell from his eye.

Elrohir leaned down and captured Legolas’ lips in his own, kissing him tenderly, running his hands over that warm, inviting flesh. Legolas melted into the kiss but Elrohir could feel his distress, could feel his muscles twitch beneath his skin as he fought to regain control of his body. Elrohir felt no such distress. He had always wanted Legolas and that yearning had only been revealed by the spell, not forced by it. He kissed Legolas’s ear, whispering into it, “Don’t be afraid, love, it’s me.”

Legolas’ eyes widened and he looked at Elrohir with a heartbreaking relief, then relaxed beneath him. Elrohir relaxed as well, taking in the hunger in Legolas’ eyes before making love to him the way he had always dreamed, tenderly and without shame. Neither remembered the Necromancer was there as they gave into their primal impulses, finding their release with twin cries of passion. In the end they fell into a swoon, still clasped in a fierce embrace.

Elrohir awoke just before dawn, lying on a grassy hillock in the thick forest east of the tower, Legolas in his arms. Both were fully clothed, their weapons nearby. Legolas’ bedroll was unslept in. Elladan was lying alone a short distance away, snoring softly.  
Legolas was still sleeping peacefully, but when Elrohir moved to sit up, it woke him. He started awake, looking at Elrohir in shock.

“The tower, the Necromancer. . .?” he began.

“So it was not a dream,” Elrohir said. “But why did he let us go?”

“I don’t know,” Legolas said. “Perhaps it was part of some sick experiment, or maybe his only aim was to humiliate us and let us know we cannot overcome his power.”

“Perhaps,” Elrohir agreed. “But if that was his aim he failed in at least one way, for I have wanted to make love to you like that for a very long time.”

Legolas blushed deeply. He took Elrohir’s hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “And I have wanted you to. I just never knew how to tell you.”

They stole a quick kiss before waking Elladan and heading back to Imladris to report to Elrond.

**Author's Note:**

> Due to real life circumstances I was unable to give my recipient the story she deserves this round. I will work on rectifying this soon.


End file.
